


After You're Gone

by Nerd4ever243



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Gen, Not A Fix-It, Not Beta Read, Orihime got her shit together, Post-War, Sort-of, What-If, but not before the vanderwuil, well ulquiorra has been dead for a while now, whatever the hades the new arc is now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 04:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5402297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd4ever243/pseuds/Nerd4ever243
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Fullbringers/Pre-Wandenreich. Orihime likes to keep things that have hurt her and forget about them. Sometimes though, it's hard to forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After You're Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who was brutally reminded they are still Bleach trash? This gal right here, that's who! TBH this was my first real hardcore ship, so much so it's been 5 years and I still cry over this ship. Funnily enough I never wrote fic for them, mostly because I was afraid I would get them wrong. As it is I wrote this when listening to After Dark by Asian Kung-Fu Generation and the feels stabbed my heart. Also I'm procrastinating from studying. Enjoy my awful writing!

She didn’t know she still had it after all this time. Orihime had just gone to do laundry after coming back from their latest crazy fiasco. It had been piling up again so she had just shoved everything into a bag from all over the house, including what was in her closet. Not even remembering that was where she put all her … well “troubling” clothes. Among them were her old middle school uniform from when Sora died, the purple shirt she had technically died in the first time, the white shirt she first found out she had her powers (unrecognizable from her other school shirts but Orihime _knew,_ and that’s all that mattered), the pink shirt she wore to Soul Society modified with ruffles courtesy of Uryū, some shinigami clothes given to her by Yachiru, and _the_ _dress_.

Her hands tremble as she picks up the white cloth and her breath hitches as soon as she feels it in her hands. Impossibly soft, almost ephemeral in its texture and the way the light hits it makes it seem pearlescent. How long ago had it been since she last saw Las Noches, since she even bothered to think about _him_? She was 17 now, Ichigo had lost and now regained his powers, the Fullbringers were gone, and it- it has been almost two years.

Ulquiorra Schiffer, the hollow who died with a heart in his hands: her heart. Dropping the dress she physically flinched from it. Oh how shallow! How could she have forgotten of him? His vivid green eyes, empty at first but at the end of it all full of curiosity and wonder as he had looked at her. His pale face had been whiter than snow and just as cold but with one small smile for her as he turned to dust. Her heart clenches as a stone settles in her stomach. Sadness fills her as shame makes itself present Ah, that’s why she avoided thinking of him: it hurt.

She falls to her knees and the dress is clenched between her hands and her chest. Her breath hitches with every gasp of air trying to enter her lungs. Soon she is crying and she can’t stop, she can’t, not then and not now; for him she will always weep for what could have been. After a while her breathing evens out and her body stops trembling. Wiping her tears she looks at the dress, burnt and tattered but still lovely in its texture. She wonders if she can fix it, and then shakes her head before griping the dress and getting up. Her own hands will fix it, she’ll see to it. Looking to Sora’s alter she smiles and cleans it up. Laundry can wait; she has a mission to do!

* * *

“Why, hello Inoue-chan,” Kisuke Urahara greets the girl. He is outside, fan moving lazily to provide a meager breeze in the summer heat. “What brings you here on this hot day, not that I mind your pleasant company.”

His grin is soft today instead of the usual mischievous one but it has been that way since she returned. She suspects the shopkeeper blames himself for her getting captured, or at least feels guilty she was the one to be used to get to Aizen. She smiles back and bows in greeting.

“Hello Urahara-san,” she responds and shifts nervously in place as she gets up from her bow. “Ah, I was wondering if you sold clothe from the- ah, the spirit realm as well?”

Kisuke looked at her for a moment before sighing and getting up, “As a matter of fact I do Inoue-chan, may I ask what kind or would you like to see?”

“I- I would like to see, please,” she ducked her head, looking at the bag in hand and twisting it.

“Follow me if you will,” Kisuke answered and stepped into his shop.

It was cooler inside, the sun lighting up the inside providing no need for lights inside but there was enough shade the building was not hot inside. Bypassing the aisles of candy and sweets Urahara went to the back, unlocking a door and ducking inside. Orihime followed and then gasped in astonishment. Before her the room was filled with rows and rows of flowing materials. Rich dark blues, vibrant reds, gauzy pinks, and ephemeral yellows were just some of the few colors she could see. There were thick plush rolls of fabric, thin gossamer fabrics, and some lace that seemed to shift in place.

“So what were you looking for,” Kisuke asked as he turned back to her, wide grin in place.

“Oh,” Orihime turned away from looking at a lovely shade of orange that reminded her strongly of Ichigo’s hair color. “Well white but ah a pearly white.”

“Hmm let’s see we have,” Kisuke turned around and moved a few rolls of baric before reaching a lever. Pushing it down one side of the wall moved. Orihime squeaked in surprise and jumped away from that side. “Ah here we are!”

The wall slide to a stop and around twenty different shades of white revealed itself. Orihime stepped closer to look but stopped when a hand landed on her shoulder. Turning to Kisuke she could see a sheepish smile on his face as he coughed into his other hand.

“A thing about these clothes, they don’t handle corporeal contact well,” he said and with that he stepped out of his _gigai_.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” she asked and set down her bag. “Ok I’m ready!”

Kisuke chuckled before lifting his cane and slamming Benihime to Orihime"s head. The girl’s body collapsed but her soul stood straight up.

“Do you see what you’re looking for,” Kisuke asked as she once again steeped closer to the moving wall.

Orihime looked at the wall with deep concentration, brows furrowed, as she looked at all the white cloths. After a moment she blinked and shook her head.

“I’m sorry Urahara-san but they all look almost-” she trailed off as she saw a thin roll buried underneath a thicker roll. “A-hah!”

She reached and pulled out the roll of cloth, some of it trailing behind as it had been a bit unrolled. It shimmered in the light and felt light in her fingers and incredibly soft. Going to her bag she pulled out a bit of the dress and compared the cloth, they were the same!

“This one, I’ll take it!” She turned to Kisuke just in time to see the odd look he gave the cloth.

“Is something wrong? Is it not for sale?” She began to set the cloth down, looking at it in loss and disappointment.

“Oh no, no it’s just,” Kisuke opened his fan and placed it to cover the lower half of his face, eyes shadowed by his hat, “That cloth is made from the trees of Hueco Mundo. I call it Arena Blanca.”

“It’s perfect,” Orihime replied. “How much do I owe you Urahara-san?”

Kisuke looked at her for a good minute before snapping his fan shut and giving her a wide grin. “Mah, for you it’s free! Though if you can please tell Ichigo to stop by, I have some things to discuss with him.”

“Oh, thank you Urahara-san!” Orihime bowed but before she stepped back into her body she looked to the cloth then back to Kisuke. “Ah how do I…?”

“Oh give it here,” Kisuke answered as he held out a hand.

She handed it over and stepped back into her body. Getting up she followed him back to the more open storefront. Kisuke hummed a small tune as he walked to the register and ducked behind to grab something. Curious as to what he was getting Orihime leaned over the counter to see what he was retrieving.

“A-hah!” Kisuke shouted and Orihime stepped back. In his hands he held a small piece of paper with writing on it. “This should make it corporeal, one moment.”

He placed the seal on the cloth then with a blue glow activated the seal. Orihime could see as _reishi_ was pulled into the seal and directed to the cloth. With a small poof the roll of cloth became real and this time when she reached with her hand she could feel it.

“Thank you Urahara-san,” she said and tucked the roll underneath her arm.

“It was my pleasure Inoue-chan,” Kisuke replied.

“Ah you can call me Orihime, if you want,” she offered shyly. She did like the shopkeeper much and he knew about her, he hadn’t even asker her why she wanted the cloth.

“Only if you call me Kisuke,” he offered back with a small smile.

“Kisuke-san,” she replied and bowed, “I’ll pass on your message to Kurosaki-kun on my way back.”

“Thank you Orihime-chan,” Kisuke offered and watched her leave.

He said nothing as a black cat appeared from nowhere and sat on the counter, its tail swing in a lazy motion. Once the girl was no longer in sight he sighed once more and scratched the cat behind the ears.

“What do you think, Yoruichi?” He asked the cat as he stopped and got a bowl to pour some milk.

“She is strong,” the cat replied, “Not many could recover from Hueco Mundo and actually have fond memories.”

“Exactly,” Kisuke murmured, “Isn’t that a problem?”

Yoruichi stayed silent for a while, watching as Kisuke poured her some milk. She drank some and stayed silent for a bit longer. Just when Kisuke thought she wouldn’t answer, she let loose a deep sigh.

“No, I don’t think it is,” this time the voice changed from a deepness to a light feminine tone. He felt arms wrap around his shoulders and chuckled as she tugged at his coat. “Her strength comes from her heart, from her kindness, and her mourning the Cuatro Espada will probably do her more good. Make her heart stronger.”

“She did grow up more in there than when she went to Soul Society,” Kisuke conceded, “even with her training with the Visords.”

“You know,” Yoruichi began and Kisuke turned to face her. The sun was coming in strong from the doorway and her dark skin glowed in the light, her golden eyes seemed freshly polished and her purple hair looked as soft as her smile, a rare sight even to him, “ was in Hueco Mundo recently and there are stories going around.

“Oh? What kind of stories,” he asked as he dropped his head onto her shoulder. Her fingers ran through his hair and he felt himself relax into her hands. He would never stop being taken by how deadly and how kind those hands could be.

“Stories, tales of a certain Strawberry and his entourage,” she began, a purr in her voice. “How they stormed into the strongholds of gods to save a princess of great beauty. How they succeeded in a great battle against a King and a Devil but in a moment of strange empathy the princess reached out to the Devil. A princess reaching out to a demon but most miraculously the Devil reached back and asked her one question.”

They remained quiet, their breaths evening out to match the other. Her arms were draped over his shoulders and his were held loosely around her waist. His head was on her shoulders and her head was resting atop his. Their stillness seemed to permeate the air and time itself as they stayed in that position for what felt like forever and no time at all.

“What was her response,” Kisuke whispered, barely breaking the silence with his question because if he did not then he would just stay in her arms forever.

“She told him ‘I am not afraid,’ and with that the Devil disappeared and so did she,” Yoruichi replied and leaned back, letting her arms fall away from his shoulders.

“Huh, what a story,” Kisuke replied, “Like something out of a _Bunraku_ play.”

“Better than a suicide play,” Yoruichi replied then grinned and flipped off the table. “Want to fight?”

“When do I not,” Kisuke answered an equally delighted grin on his face. 

* * *

Orihime stepped into her apartment and hummed a tune from a song she could barely remember but stuck in her head despite that. She set down her sewing supplies and the dress on her small table. Walking into the kitchen she set the stove alight and began cooking a late dinner. The sun was setting and by the time she was done cooking and eating the sun was no longer in the sky but the darkness of night had not set in yet. Sometimes, when the moon was in a crescent and she woke up from a nightmare she would look at the sky and it felt as if she had never left Hueco Mundo. When that happened she felt one of two things; usually she would feel despair but on occasion, on occasion she felt glad because he might still be there if she would turn around. When that happened she would turn only for the spell to break and she realized she was alone in her room.

Putting away the dishes she turned to the table and looked at the dress. The dress itself was fine, mostly it had been the cape that had been destroyed and she still had pieces of it. Grabbing the leftover long sleeves she studied them and frowned. She had never really like the puffy shoulders the cape had had, but she could change that and with a bit of adjust meant they would make great gloves. Taking out some black thread and the black silk she had stopped to grab on the way back from Kisuke’s shop she began to work.

The cape she would redo but she needed better measurements and she was going to make it sleeveless but she had liked how it had draped over her shoulders and the collar. Looking at the leftover scrap of what had been a cape she studied it before grabbing a tape measure and the adjustable dress form in her closet. She didn’t realize as darkness finally fell, how midnight came and went, and how the sky began to lighten with the rising sun. She stopped when her stomach growled for breakfast but even then she did not stop as she ate then went back to hand sewing the cape’s white outer cloth to the black silk of the inside.

She finishes the cape but as she looks at it she feels something missing. Staring at it she looks to the dress and has the full outfit set out. It’s done but still she feels like there should be something else. Looking to her supplies, she stares at the left over cloth there black silk, Arena Blanca, black thread, needles, and green a vibrant green silk that had a sheen to it the color of _his_ eyes. Taking it she looked back at the out fit and knew what to do.

“Oi!” Orihime jumped in place as a loud knock on her door shook her form her daze. “Orihime you there?”

Looking to the clock she blinked at it before she realized it was 12PM, she had missed school. She had missed school!

“Ah! Yes I’m here,” she yelled and rushed to the door. Opening the door she let a small “eep” as a fist almost landed on her face. “Tatsuki! Sorry I missed class!”

The taller girl pulled back her fist in time and gave Orihime a sheepish grin. “That’s why I’m here, and so are these guys.”

Looking behind her, Orihime’s eyes widened as she saw Ichigo, Chad, Uryū, and Rukia behind her best friend. “Oh, oh I’m so sorry I made you all miss class.”

“It’s no problem Inoue,” Ichigo replied as he gave her a brief grin. In the past the grin would have caused her heart to skip and to blush redder than a tomato but after last night she felt, well she felt a bit hollow. “What kept you? You’re usually not one to miss class.”

“Oh please come inside,” Orihime offered, not thinking twice as she let them all in. Closing the door after Chad she turned and said, “I was just about to make lunch if-”

“Inoue,” Ichigo cut her off and she looked to him then followed his gaze to the dress. Oh, hell.

“Orihime,” Rukia began as she turned to the taller girl, who looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“What’s wrong,” Tatsuki asked, looking at all her friends’ reactions. “What’s the deal?”

Tatsuki looked at the lovely white dress, she would have thought it a simple wedding dress it if weren’t for all the black and the jade green lining of the collar, and to the guilty look in Orihime’s eyes with those of the worried looks of Ichigo and all.

“It’s a dress you guys,” Tatsuki continued as she walked to it. Grabbing the cape she marveled at the material. Was that honest to god silk? “Is this why you didn’t go to class?”

“Ah, yes,” Orihime snapped out from her staring contest with Ichigo and Rukia. “I got carried away, I didn’t even notice the sun rise.”

“Really,” Uryū said and he was standing in front of Sora’s alter and she felt her stomach plummet.

Chad was right next to him and he looked at the altar along with everyone else. Where there had once been just a spot for Sora’s picture there was now a small plush doll and some fresh incense with rice balls on a plate. The plush doll was made of the same materials of the dress, it had plain white hakama with a black border, a small long sleeved cape again with black border, large green eyes with thin green tear like marks down its face, and a funny looking mask thing covering one half of its face.

“Orihime,” Chad began as he turned to her. “You alright?”

“I-,” Orihime began and felt her body tremble in front of all her friends’ concerned looks and she hated it. She hated their worry, their soft treatment of her, and the way they were always protecting her. Always she was the weak link, the “princess” in need of rescuing, and the damsel in distress. To them she was weak and though they did not mean it maliciously she still resented it. Even Tatsuki did it, treating her as if she would break if she said the wrong thing. Before the urge to cry set in though she looked at the dress and a phantom voice whispered in her ear.

_‘Are you afraid, woman?’_

_‘No,’_ she thought as she gathered herself under control and looked to her friends. _‘I am not afraid.’_

“I’m fine,” she said in a strong and steady voice. “I just got carried away in memories, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure,” Uryū asked and she felt a jolt of anger before she shoved it down. Uryū was worried, nothing more.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Orihime replied and smiled. It didn’t feel forced, it felt sad and tired but for them she would always smile.

“Okay,” Tatsuki interrupted, eyes narrowed as she looked at what had transpired. She’d get it out of Orihime later. That was all a very strange reaction to a dress. “Well, try it on then.”

She didn’t miss how everyone except her and Orihime flinched from that. Curioser and curioser; she’d get it out of either Orihime or beat it out of Ichigo. She had a feeling it had something to do with Orihime’s disappearance from a couple summers ago but she wouldn’t press, not yet.  

“Sure, but before that, do you guys want lunch,” Orihime asked and her mood instantly brightened at the prospect of food. “I was just about to make some mango rice with spicy bean sauce! It’s a new recipe I found online and it sounded so good!”

And just like that the tension in the room broke, as everyone looked slightly ill not that Orihime noticed that part.

“Ah, Actually Inoue maybe we should just order pizza,” Ichigo began.

“Wouldn’t want you to waste ingredients,” Chad continued for him.

“I’ll be happy to pay for them,” Uryū finished as he pushed his glasses up, hiding his face to stop Orihime from noticing the green tint it got.

“Oh, okay then,” Orihime deflated before popping right back up at the prospect of pizza. “Ooh, can I get one with anchovies and BBQ sauce on it?”

“Ah sure, I’ll have one just for you.” Uryū responded as he pulled out his cell and dialed the nearest pizza place.

Orihime turned to the dress and pulled it free from the form. She gathered it in her arms and went to her bedroom to lay it out. Going back she began putting away her sewing supplies before Rukia started helping her. They worked in silence as Tatsuki went to her small radio and tuned it to a popular rock station. Rukia helped her take her stuff into her room and set it away.

“Do you need help putting it on,” Rukia asked softly.

Orihime stared at the dress before nodding. “Yes, please. I made some changes to it since the last time you saw it.”

Rukia waited as Orihime undressed then helped her get into the dress. The back was set in a corset style as opposed the simple plain back it had been before. The laces were vibrant jade as was the border. Rukia didn’t comment as she tied up the laces, only focused on the stitch work and the feel of the cloth.

“It’s been well done,” she told Orihime who gave her a bright grin.

“Thank you,” Orihime replied. “I worked all night and this morning to do it.”

Orihime grabbed the over skirt and pulled it on. Where her hips were once covered there was now a space that revealed her hipbones and parts of her upper thighs but the overskirt hid it so only a bit of skin showed. Again the borders for that were jade green but blended in well with the black. Rukia grabbed the cape and fastened it on as Orihime pulled in a long set of gloves that were again bordered with green. Orihime turned away and walked to her closet to pull out the boots that went with the dress. Tugging them on she didn’t notice Rukia looking through her jewelry box as she pulled out a gold necklace with a lovely sphere of jade in the center. Orihime held still when she felt the cold press of the necklace and waited for Rukia to clasp it shut.

“We should do your hair,” Rukia murmured as she lifted a strand of Orihime’s long hair.

“It would take too long,” Orihime replied just as softly.

“Hmm I know I simple style, it’ll only take a little bit,” Rukia offered and before she let Orihime reply she grabbed a brush and started combing her hair. They sat in relative silence, the music from the living room drifting in as the boys talked about the days activities and Tatsuki avidly talked about last nights fight with Chad.

“There,” Rukia finished with a pat on Orihime’s head and turned her around to face the mirror.

Orihime stared at her reflection, not sure if it was even herself she was looking at. The girl- no, woman- staring back at her looked refined, poised, and beautiful. Lifting a hand she touched the mirror then touched her face. Yes, that was her looking back and she looked older but more- well _more_.  

“I look different,” Orihime finally said.

“Good different or bad,” Rukia asked.

Orihime didn’t respond until she looked back at Rukia and turned to fully face her. Rukia had beautiful blue eyes, her frame was petite and she held all the signs of a traditional Japanese beauty. When they had first met she had thought her to be very mature for their age group, now she knew Rukia was much older than them. Still, even when she had acted younger around them she had retained the aura of someone who knew things, had experience. That was what Orihime had now, she realized.

“Good different,” Orihime replied and smiled, smiled a genuine smile that she had not done so in a long time.

“Good,” Rukia said, tucking away a stray piece of hair from Orihime’s face. “Good.”


End file.
